


Golden Eyes

by Phineasflynns



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Homophobia, I promise it's not what you expect i just love vampires, M/M, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Slow Burn, This isn't a crossover this is just inspired by twilight no actual twilight characters appear, Twilight AU, Vampires, benverly and stanbrough are both background ships, bloody typing, eddies mom is a homophobe she sucks, mentions of hospitals and tests and poking and prodding, nothing too graphic but im warning just in case, rated for language because they swear like truckers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-11-08 01:29:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20827133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phineasflynns/pseuds/Phineasflynns
Summary: Eddie is furious. He doesn't want to move away from Derry, especially to some stupid town in Washington. He hates his house, hates his mom, and he's reasonably sure he's going to hate his new school. His opinion changes as he makes a few friends, Bill Denbrough and Stan Uris. His first day passes smoothly until biology, when he realizes he has to sit next to the beautiful boy he'd been oogling at lunch.





	1. First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Twilight AU! I loved Twilight when I was younger, and despite it's flaws I still do. I'm going to put my all into this, so please let me know what you think! This is NOT going to be a shot-for-shot or scene-by-scene rewrite, I'm going to try to stay true to character, and pick and choose scenes between the movie and book. 
> 
> Hopefully you enjoy this as much as I do!

“Come on, Eddie-bear!” Sonia coos, reaching over to pinch Eddie’s cheek, and Eddie sighs softly, rolling his eyes. “This is a fresh start!”

“I didn’t want a fresh start, mom. You took me away from all my friends.” He hisses, and huffs an aggravated sigh.

“Friends.” She scoffs. “You don’t need friends, you have me.”

Eddie sighs and lets his head fall to hit the window of the car. He knows by now that it’s not even worth the fight. He shifts so he can watch out the window, brown eyes gazing listlessly at the trees flying by. He didn’t want to come here. 

He didn’t want to move away from Maine just to move to some stupid, rainy town in Washington. Forks. What kind of a name is Forks. Though, he supposes Derry isn’t that great either. 

Eddie loudly sighs, eyes falling shut as he drops his head back against the headrest. Stupid town. Stupid new school. Stupid mom.

“We’re here!”

Eddie opens his eyes and sighs loudly at the sight of the house in front of him; it’s not bad, but it’s not home. The house is two stories, and has two bedrooms and one bath. It’s painted white with green trim, and Eddie can admit it’s not the worst paint job he’s ever seen.

“Hurray.” Eddie responds dryly, and Sonia shoots him a look.

“Really Eddie you could at least try to be happy!” She snaps, and he rolls his eyes and sighs.

“Why would I be happy? I don’t want to be here!”

“Eddie-”

“I didn’t want to come to this stupid town, I don’t want to live in this stupid house, I didn’t want to move clear across the continental U.S. and change schools just because you didn’t like my friends!”

“That’s not what this is!” Sonia insists angrily. “Kids were going missing, honey!”

“So we’re just going to move every time a kid goes missing? Great plan, ma.”

Without giving her a chance to respond, Eddie grabs his suitcase and slams his door, stomping up the stairs to the front door. He waits impatiently until Sonia comes up the stairs and unlocks the door for him, and then he storms inside and straight up the stairs.

He chooses the bedroom with the window overlooking the driveway, and he’s relieved to see that it’s the room that the movers had put his belongings in earlier that week. He kicks the door shut and drops onto his bed with a sigh.

Who’s it going to hurt if he’s miserable the rest of the day? He can sulk today, and put on a fresh attitude tomorrow. As much as he doesn’t want to be here, he also doesn’t want to be friendless here.

“Eddie!” His mother’s shrill voice echoes through the house, and Eddie sighs. “Come here for a minute!”

“What, ma?” He calls as he exits his room and heads toward the stairs. He runs down them quickly and heads out the front door, gaze falling first upon his mother and then upon a green pickup truck beside her.

“Come say hi, Eddie-bear.”

It’s then that his gaze falls upon another woman, taller and slimmer than his mother. Thick blond hair falls over her shoulders, chocolate brown eyes peeking out from beneath long lashes. 

“Uh. Hi?” He greets, and the woman smiles. 

“You’ve sure grown a lot since I last saw you.”

“This is Nadia.” Sonia explains at his confused look. “We were friends when we were kids.”

“Oh.” 

“Talkative.” Nadia laughs softly, and Sonia rolls her eyes. 

“He’s in a bad mood.” She mutters. “What do you think, Eddie?”

“Of what?”

Annoyance passes over her face and she shoots him a scathing look. “Of the truck!”

“It’s nice.” He shrugs, and Nadia laughs at that. 

“It’s yours.” She tells him, smile widening when his jaw drops. “I had my daughter fix it up for you. Your mom thought the move might be easier on you if you had a set of wheels.”

Eddie bites back the snippy remark on the tip of his tongue; surely the truck would only be coming with a new set of rules for his mother to use to control him. He is, however, excited over the prospect of a truck. 

“Really?” He asks, and Nadia smiles. 

“There we go, there’s some enthusiasm.”

“Myra is a lovely girl, Eddie.” Sonia pipes up suddenly, and Eddie almost screams. 

“I’m sure she is.” He responds blandly. _ Too bad I’m gay, ma. _

He’d discussed it with her before, and he was pretty sure that was part of the reason for the move; she’d been convinced that his so called delinquent friends had been influencing him. 

“Well, I’d like to think I am.” A new voice pops up, and he thinks it must be Myra. He turns his attention from the truck to the girl. She’s short, chubby, and her face is covered in freckles. She has straight blonde hair chopped off at the shoulder, and blue eyes. 

“Hi.”

“Come on, I’ll show you the truck.” She grins, hopping up into it on the passenger side. On autopilot, he climbs in behind the wheel. 

The night rushes by quickly. The truck was amazing, and for once he’s grateful to his mother for something. Of course a truck doesn’t make up for fifteen years of lies and manipulation, or fifteen years of being told he’s sick when he isn’t. Fifteen years of being told he’s allergic to almost every substance on the planet. He doesn’t even have asthma, but gets anxious if he doesn’t carry an inhaler with him.

He sighs and rolls over in his bed, pulling his blanket higher up over his shoulders. He’s dreading school tomorrow. He’s dreading meeting new people. He’s dreading starting new classes, catching up on homework and dealing with new teachers. 

Eventually he falls into a fitful sleep, woken in the morning by his mother’s shrill screech that it’s time for breakfast. He feels as though he hadn’t slept a wink, and he’s sure it shows on his face. He gets dressed, and before he wanders down the stairs he stops off in the bathroom to wash his face and hopefully look less zombie-like. 

“Morning, ma.”

Breakfast passes in a blur and soon enough he’s behind the wheel of his new truck, backing out of the driveway while his mother frets from the porch.

“Be careful, Eddie! Always drive ten under!”

“Goodbye, ma.” 

The truck drives smoother than he’d expected given that he’s reasonably sure that its at least thirty years old, and to his delight the heat works wonders. He’s in a much better mood by the time he gets to school, cozy and warm tucked away in the cab of his truck. He parks near the office marked Administration, and reluctantly turns his truck off and hops out into the cold. 

The morning flies by quickly in a blur of names and faces, two names sticking out more than others; Bill from english class, and Stan from algebra. Bill is a tall, skinny boy with brown hair and brown eyes, and Stan is slightly shorter than Bill, with brown eyes and wild light brown curls. Bill is quick to invite Eddie to join them for lunch, and for once Eddie doesn’t want to give an excuse. 

Over lunch Eddie learns that Bill wants to be a writer when he’s older, and that he takes creative writing classes through a college website every Wednesday after school. Stan insists that Bill’s writing is excellent, and tells Eddie that when he graduates he’s going to school to be a teacher. When Eddie admits that he’s not sure what he wants to do yet, they simply smile and assure him that it’s no big deal, which is a pleasant change from the usual reactions.

They exchange numbers and quickly create a group chat, and most of the rest of their lunch period is spent listening to Stan telling him of a terrible painting his dad has in his office. The story keeps Eddie’s attention, until the cafeteria doors open and a few students file in that he hadn’t seen before.

“Who are they?” He blurts, and Stan stops mid-sentence to look over his shoulder. 

“Oh, I should’ve known.” Stan laughs, and Eddie arches a brow.

“Pretty, huh?” Bill asks, and Eddie nods mutely.

His gaze locks upon the woman that had entered first before it flicks to the man she’s lightly pulling. The woman has thick wavy red hair chopped off above her shoulders, and is clad in black jeans, blue converse shoes, and a baggy grey t-shirt. The shirt is topped off with a black vest. Her smile is like sunshine, freckles spattering across her cheeks and nose, and Eddie feels awestruck as she turns and laughs at the boy behind her. Her honey coloured eyes sparkle at him with all the love in the world, and Eddie wonders how overwhelming her presence must be to straight men. The boy behind her is no less beautiful but in a different way. His hair is short and coloured a light sandy blonde, eyes the same golden hue of the womans. He’s taller than her, torso bulky and Eddie isn’t entirely sure it’s all muscle. His face is round and friendly, blue jeans and a simple red shirt making up his outfit. 

“That’s Ben Hanscom, and Beverly Marsh.” Stan tells him, reclaiming his attention. Eddie turns to look at him, eyes wide, and Bill laughs.

“I know, b-b-beautiful, right?”

“Yes, holy shit.” Eddie mutters, turning his gaze back upon them, and he swears he sees Beverly’s lips twitch up into a smirk.

“They mostly keep to themselves, they moved here from Alaska last year.” Stan explains, and Eddie dumbly nods in recognition. “They live with Mike Hanlon and his wife Maria. Mister Hanlon is their foster dad.” 

“How many kids do they have?”

“Three, the other one should be along soon.” Bill replies.

“He’s the prettiest of the three.” Stan pipes up, and Eddie turns and raises a brow. 

“Am I going to have a heart attack at the lunch table the minute I see this guy?” 

Bill snorts a bewildered laugh and throws his head back, while Stan giggles softly and nods his head, an amused smile on his lips. “Pretty close to it.”

As if speaking his name had summoned him, the door opens again and a tall gangly teenager walks through the door. Eddie’s heart falls out his ass.

“Oh my god.” 

The boy is tall -at least six feet- and thin, long arms, long fingers, and long black curls hanging down the back of his neck. He’s clad in jeans with ripped knees, white converse, a band tee for ACDC, and a hideous pink hawaiian button-up is thrown on overtop but left unbuttoned.

A light dusting of freckles traces the bridge of his nose and across his cheekbones, and a pair of thick rimmed square glasses sit on his nose.He turns his head, catching Eddie’s eye with beautiful honey eyes, and when he winks Eddie thinks he must’ve turned the colour of a cherry judging by the smirk that graces the boys lips.

“What’s his name?” Eddie whispers, oblivious to his new friends giggling behind him.

“Richie Tozier.” Stan pipes up, and Eddie huffs a shaky exhale, wide brown eyes following Richie’s lean figure as he follows his adoptive siblings to their lunch table.

He moves with unexpected grace, and Eddie is completely entranced with him.

“I have never seen a more beautiful creature in my life.” 

“I have, s-s-s-sitting right- sitting right beside me.” Bill grins, and Eddie turns in time to see Stan’s cheeks turn red.

“Bill!”

“Actually, that was pretty smooth.” Eddie laughs, and Stan squawks.

“Don’t encourage him!”

Lunch ends soon after that and Eddie is off to biology, pushing thoughts of Richie Tozier to the back of his mind. Stan has english that period, and Bill has algebra, but they walk Eddie to his class nonetheless with promises to talk in gym class, which they all had together.

Eddie watches them leave, eyes lingering on the gentle brush of their fingertips as they walk, and he smiles before turning and stepping into his class. He stops dead in his tracks when brown locks with honey, and a smirk pulls at Richie’s lips. Eddie can feel it when his face goes scarlet, and he turns and stumbles over to the teacher to hand in his paperwork. The man wordlessly signs the pink sheet and points Eddie toward the only empty seat; the one next to Richie.

Richie seems delighted by this, even if his posture seems as rigid as a marble statue. Eddie slowly crosses the room, taking a seat on the stool next to Richie, and he can feel the mans golden stare boring into his skull. Midway through class Eddie snaps and turns to face him, arching a brow. 

“Can I help you?” 

Richie’s devious smile turns wider and he tilts his head slightly. “I’m just returning your earlier stare.” He replies smoothly, and Eddie’s blush darkens. “Oh, thought I didn’t notice that?”

“You winked at me, of course I knew you saw.”

“You didn’t look away after the wink.” Richie points out, and Eddie rolls his eyes despite the smile pulling at his lips. “I’m Richie. Richie Tozier.”

“Eddie Kaspbrak.” 

“Well Eds, what’s your story?”

“Eddie.” He corrects immediately. “My story?”

“You’re new here. Why’d you move here?”

“Ah. My mother is a psychopath.” Eddie responds bluntly, and Richie snorts a quiet laugh. 

“Not the answer I was expecting.” 

“Nobody ever is.” Eddie replies dryly, and Richie nods.

“No, I’d suppose not.” He agrees. “So, why is she a psychopath?”

“That’s kind of a long story.”

“I’m sure I can keep up.”

Eddie hesitates, waiting until the teacher has passed out microscopes and worksheets and a box of slides, and when Richie’s curious stare never wavers he starts talking. He barely notices Richie peeking into the microscope or writing on the sheet, spilling out all the bullshit his mother had caused through his life. Richie nods and mutters in agreement when Eddie curses his mother, and when Eddie finishes the worksheet is done and the period is almost over, and somehow Eddie doesn’t regret spilling his guts to Richie when Richie smiles at him.

“You were right, she’s a psychopath. Do you really carry around an inhaler?” Richie asks, and in lieu of a response Eddie reaches into his pocket and pulls out the blue inhaler perpetually on his person. “Holy shit.”

“Brainwashing.” Eddie mutters, and Richie nods in understanding. 

“That’s fucked up.” 

“Yeah, you’re telling me. I grew up thinking I was allergic to grass and trees and literally every species of flowers, just because my mother is a fucking crazy person and wanted to keep me inside to control me.”

“Is she still like that?” Richie asks curiously, and Eddie sighs heavily through his nose.

“Kind of.” He hedges. “I stood up to her, so she’s backed off a little. She doesn’t make me take twelve different placebos a day, but she’s pretty controlling about where I go and who I go with.”

“That’s rough.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Eddie sighs, and Richie grimaces sympathetically. “Usually I tell her to fuck off and go anyways.”

At that, Richie throws his head back and laughs. Eddie’s cheeks flush pink, eyes wide as he watches Richie laugh. _ Beautiful. He’s beautiful. _When he stops laughing he smiles dazzlingly at Eddie, and Eddie huffs a soft breath.

“I like you, Eds.” He beams, and before Eddie can correct him on his name again, the bell rings. Richie is swiftly out of his seat and grabs his books. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t forget to turn in that sheet.”

He leaves before Eddie can reboot his brain enough to reply, and glances down at the worksheet in front of him. Richie’s messy scrawl fills the page, and their names are written at the top. Pink cheeked and flustered, Eddie grabs the page and stumbles up to the front desk, turning the page in before briskly leaving. 

He stumbles into Bill and Stan, whom both like they’ve seen a ghost, and it mostly snaps Eddie out of his Richie-induced stupor. 

“What’s going on?” He asks, and Stan is first to respond.

“Richie Tozier was talking to you!” 

“Uh, yes? Is there something wrong with that?”

“No, it’s just, he n-n-never talks to a-anyone.” Bill explains, and Eddie’s cheeks heat up anew.

“Oh.” He murmurs, and his two friends exchange a glance. “He’s very nice.”

“Doesn’t hurt that he’s gorgeous though, hmm?” Stan teases, and he earns a laugh from Eddie.

“No, that definitely doesn’t hurt.” He admits. “Come on, or we’ll be late.”

Gym flies by in a blur, and finally he finds himself climbing back into his fading green truck, calling happy goodbyes to his two new friends. As he makes the short drive home he thinks back on the day,and Richie Tozier’s face comes to mind. A faint blush crosses his face, and he wonders idly what the ridiculously handsome boy is doing. He pushes the thought from his mind quickly, and decides to focus on a topic for his english essay.


	2. Personal Reasons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friday goes by with much of the same, and once again Richie isn’t in his seat. Eddie knows it’s ridiculous that he cares so much, but he’d enjoyed the class they’d shared. Richie was funny, and Eddie wants to know more about him. It also doesn’t help that he’s drop dead gorgeous.
> 
> He makes it to the end of lunch, and once his friends split off his gaze is upon Beverly and Ben. Neither seems to be moving to leave just yet, and before Eddie can overthink it he’s on his feet and crossing the room. His gaze catches Ben’s, as Beverly’s back is toward Eddie, and he swears he sees the blond murmur something before he gets to the table.

Eddie wakes up to the sun shining through his curtains. For a moment he can pretend he’s still at home in Derry, snuggled up in his bed in the room he’d had since he was born. The moment is short lived, but the sun puts a smile on Eddie’s face nonetheless. He dresses quickly in grey jeans and a blue t-shirt, brushes his teeth, and then heads downstairs. 

Sonia is already in her recliner in front of the tv, and Eddie rolls his eyes as he grabs a banana from the bowl on the table. She glances over and smiles at him.

“Good morning, Eddie bear!” 

“Morning, ma.” He responds lamely as he steps into his sneakers. Sonia watches silently for a moment.

“That’s not a real breakfast, Eddie. I’ll make you-”

“I’m gonna be late, ma.” He lies, stooping to pick up his backpack. He heads out the door before she can say anything else. 

The sun immediately falls across his skin and he sighs happily, a small smile pulling at his lips, and he walks to his truck with a skip in his step. He climbs in and cranks the window down immediately so the breeze can pass through the cabin of the truck; the sun comes through once in a blue moon in Forks, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take advantage of it.

By the time he reaches the school, the sun has vanished. The weather app confirms it’s likely for the rest of the day, and Eddie can’t help feeling disappointed. As he searches for a parking spot, however, he can’t help feeling excited for class. Excitement he insists to himself has nothing to do with Richie Tozier. He parks and hops out, pulling his phone out so he can ask his friends where they are.

**Eddie: ** Where are you guys?

**Bill: ** Picnic tables behind the admissions office

He pockets his phone and sets off, reaching them in only a few minutes.

“Good morning.” Stan greets from his place perched on the bench of the table, and Eddie returns his greeting. 

Stan pats the bench beside him, and Eddie sits with a grateful sigh. “I already miss the sun.”

“You’re from Maine you said?” Stan asks, and Eddie nods. “That would be quite the change.”

“Yeah, well, I met a couple cool people here, so it’s not all bad.” Eddie smiles, flinching in surprise when Bill’s voice sounds behind him; he’d forgotten he was with them he was so quiet.

“Was Richie Tozier one of those people?” He teases, and Eddie’s cheeks go red.

“I meant you two!” He cries, turning to look at the teenager sat on the other side of the bench with a book in his hands.

“He knows.” Stan snorts, lightly shoving Bill, and Bill laughs softly but otherwise doesn’t react.

“Speaking of Richie…” Eddie begins slowly, and Stan shrugs.

“Haven’t seen him, yet.”

The bell rings and Bill sighs, tucking his book away before looking over to Eddie.

“Alright, let’s go.” 

Stan laughs and shares a fond look with Bill, reaching across the table to lightly pat his hand. 

“I’ll see you in algebra, Eddie.” 

He slips away and Eddie takes his spot by Bill’s side as they head deeper into campus to their english class. As they walk, they talk about the book Bill had been reading at the table. He explains to Eddie the plot, the flaws, and who his favourite character is. 

“Anyways,” Bill begins finally. “Do you r-r-read much?”

“Here and there. I love it, I’m just picky. I’d be interested in recommendations, if you have any?”

Bill visibly lights up and promises to give him a list of a few books by the end of the day. English class flies by quickly, papers being turned in and new ones assigned, and when they leave the room Stan is waiting outside the door. He shares another fond look with Bill and then heads off with Eddie, and Eddie spends most of their walk debating if it was okay to ask Stan about their relationship.

“Hey, Stan?” He asks eventually, and Stan turns and quirks and eyebrow. “If you’re not comfortable answering you don’t have to, I was just curious -and I might be majorly overstepping- but, are you and Bill together?”

Stan’s cheeks immediately flush scarlet, and he averts his gaze. It takes him a moment, but eventually he responds.

“Yeah. We just.. Aren’t out yet.” 

“As a couple, or..?” He leaves the question hanging, not wanting to assume, and Stan shrugs.

“Neither, I guess.” He admits with a nervous laugh. He turns to smile at Eddie, though his face is still burning red. “You’re the only person that knows other than the two of us.”

“My lips are sealed.” Eddie promises sincerely, and Stan visibly relaxes. He huffs a relieved sigh and drags his fingers through his messy curls.

“Thanks, Eddie.”

Algebra passes quickly, most of the period spent with Eddie asking Stan questions regarding the worksheet they’d been given. When the bell rings neither moves, as Stan is in the middle of explaining an equation. 

“So if X is less than two, then X minus two would-”

“Alright, tha-tha-that's enough.” Bill interrupts, and both look up at the smiling teenager. Bill’s smile widens slightly and he arches a brow. “Unless you two w-w-would rather spend your lunch doing m-m-math.”

“Nope, I’m good.” Eddie responds immediately, snapping his textbook shut and stuffing it into his bag. “Thanks for your help, Stan. I’m terrible at algebra.”

“No problem at all! I’m great with numbers, I never liked english class because I’m terrible at everything that it entails, so since I was a kid I’ve been putting my all into math.”

“Math teacher?” Eddie quesses, and Stan nods.

They trek down the halls to the cafeteria, and Eddie spends the walk quietly listening to Stan and Bill chat and talk about their plans for the evening. He’s relieved, honestly, that he found people that he’s clicked so well with. It feels like he’s known them a lot longer than a day and a half, and luckily they seem to feel the same.

By the time they reach the cafeteria Eddie’s heart is practically in his throat, palms sweaty from his nerves at the thought of seeing Richie again. He’d tried not to think of him through the night, but he’d completely failed. He’d tossed and turned for most of the night, thinking of honey coloured eyes and a cocky smile. 

When they enter the cafeteria his gaze immediately rockets to the table his family had sat at the day prior, and his heart skinks. The other two are there, but no Richie. He wonders briefly if perhaps he’s just late -after all, they’d been late the day before- but somehow he knows such is not the case. 

“Do you think he’s sick?” He blurts after they’ve already taken their seats around a table. Stan and Bill exchange a look, and then look toward the table Eddie had been staring at.

“Maybe.” Stan replies with a shrug. 

“It w-w-wouldn’t be the first time he m-missed a couple days.” Bill agrees. “Though usually his family is w-w-with him.”

“I almost want to ask them.” Eddie mutters, and at the wide eyed looks he gets from both of his friends he rushes to explain. “He said he’d see me today, I’m just a little worried; what if he got hurt?”

“I’m sure he’s just sick.” Stan insists gently, and Eddie sighs and nods, relaxing into his chair and resting his head in his hand on the table.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

He shoves the thought of Richie from his mind and focuses on his friends for the rest of lunch, laughing and joking until the bell rings. When it does, each one groans in disappointment and they split off to go their separate ways until gym class. Eddie makes a beeline for bio, hoping against hope that Richie will be there. He winds up disappointed when an empty desk greets him.

Friday goes by with much of the same, and once again Richie isn’t in his seat. Eddie knows it’s ridiculous that he cares so much, but he’d enjoyed the class they’d shared. Richie was funny, and Eddie wants to know more about him.  _ It also doesn’t help that he’s drop dead gorgeous. _

He makes it to the end of lunch, and once his friends split off his gaze is upon Beverly and Ben. Neither seems to be moving to leave just yet, and before Eddie can overthink it he’s on his feet and crossing the room. His gaze catches Ben’s, as Beverly’s back is toward Eddie, and he swears he sees the blond murmur something before he gets to the table.

“Hi.” He says awkwardly, and he’s almost stunned into silence when Beverly looks up at him and arches an eyebrow.  _ God, she’s beautiful.  _ “This is probably super weird, but I was just wondering where Richie is?” 

“Sorry,” Beverly begins, voice smooth and light. “Who are you?”

“Eddie.” He responds, cheeks igniting crimson. “I’m his lab partner in bio.”

“Oh, yes, he told me about you. It’s nice to put a face to the name, Eds. I’m Bev.”

“Ben.” The boy volunteers, and Eddie mumbles a soft greeting. “Richie isn’t going to be back for a few days; he’s out of town.”

“Personal reasons.” Bev pipes up, and Eddie nods, blush deepening.

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t hurt or something.”

He flees before either can respond, and as such doesn’t see the amused smile tugging at Bev’s lips. 

The rest of the day flies by uneventfully until eventually Eddie is at home, lying across a blanket in the backyard with one of Bill’s books held in his hands.  _ The Shining. i _ So far, Eddie was enjoying it. He’d have to thank Bill; it’d been so long since he read a decent book. As he reads he loses himself in the story, sparkling brown eyes darting rapidly down the page, heart pounding in his chest.

_ “Wendy? Darling? Light of my life. I’m not gonna hurt ya. I’m just going to bash your brains in.” _

Eddie almost throws the book when he hears a twig snap in the trees behind him, and he quickly flips onto his back and squints into the darkness. He hadn’t even noticed the sun going down -or rather, the sky getting darker- as he’d been so enthralled by the story. Wary eyes scan his surroundings, and despite not being able to see anything, he can’t help but feel like he’s being watched.

Unsettled, he stands, scoops up the blanket he’d been lying on, and heads back into the house. His mother’s voice immediately greets him, calling something about dinner being done, and Eddie sighs softly and heads to the stairs to hang the blanket over the railing; it’s slightly damp from the grass.

He sets the book on his nightstand and heads downstairs, the smell of beef stew filling the house. Dinner with his mother is an annoyance. She spends the entire time he’s eating telling him to find a nice girl to bring home, and that he’d better be careful or he’d have to go back on his meds.

_ Bullshit.  _ He thinks.  _ The only thing I  _ ** _need _ ** _ is to get away from  _ ** _you_ ** _ . _

He excuses himself as soon as he can -which as it turns out is only after two episodes of Wheel of Fortune and an episode of Family Feud- and heads to the shower to scrub down and destress. The heat of the water soothes his aching shoulders, relaxing the knots there, and he sighs happily and drops his head, eyes fluttering shut. 

Once he’s clean he towels off and gets straight into bed, burrowing into his blankets and falling almost immediately to sleep. 

He wakes the following morning to his phone ringing. He groans and flails his hand out, fumbling for the screeching device, and when he finds it he doesn’t even bother checking who’s calling before he swipes to accept and lifts it to his ear.

“H’llo?” He mumbles, and Bill’s laughter reaches his ears.

“See, I told you he was s-s-sleeping.”

“Bill?”

“And Stan. We’re headed to the beach, wanna come? The sun is out!”

Eddie immediately perks up at that, sitting up in his bed and shaking the blankets off of his head. He’s immediately blinded by the sun, and he yelps and shuts his eyes. “You were right.”

“I know I was.” Stan laughs. “Do you want to come or not?”

“Yeah, I’m in.” Eddie agrees, already preparing for the fight with his mother. 

“Cool, text Bill your address, we’ll pick you up.”

The minute the call ends Eddie sends his address to Bill, and then he hops out of bed and gathers his stuff. He dresses in shorts, but packs jeans to change into just in case. He also packs sunscreen, places his sunglasses on his head, and stuffs his phone into his pocket. He grabs a towel from the closet before hurrying down the stairs, and he makes it to his sandals before his mother clears her throat.

“Eddie-bear, where do you think you’re going?” She calls, and Eddie almost rolls his eyes. 

“Out with my friends, ma.”

She purses her lips and arches her brows. “I don’t think that's such a good idea, Eddie. Your illness-”

“I’m  **not ** sick, ma!” He interrupts angrily, and she grimaces. Before she can snap back, he hears a horn honk outside. “They’re here, I’ll be home later.”

“Eddie!” She shrieks, and he ignores her and continues out the door. 

He hops into the back of Stan’s minivan, and before either of the other boys can say a word he urges them to leave. “Drive- before she comes out after me.”

Stan doesn’t wait to see if he’s exaggerating.

The beach is wonderful. None of them do much swimming, as the water is much too cold for that, but they lie on the beach and bask in the warmth of the sun, soaking in as much vitamin D as they can. As they lounge they chat, talking about anything and everything, getting to know each other more and more. 

“I’m really glad I met you guys.” Eddie says after a lull in the conversation, and two sets of eyes fix upon him. “I didn’t expect to make any friends, especially not that I like as much as you guys.”

“I’m glad you moved here.” Stan responds. “Now we aren’t the only two members of our club.”

“Club?”

“The L-L-Losers club.” Bill explains, and Eddie snorts a laugh.

“I’m honoured.” He says genuinely, nestling back into the sand. 

When he gets home he’s toasty warm and tired, and his mother is so furious that she isn’t even speaking to him. He finds, however, that he doesn’t care. Eddie heads into the kitchen, grabs a lunchable from the fridge, and heads to his room. He falls asleep shortly after, half-finished lunchable on his nightstand next to him.

Monday comes much too quickly. 

Eddie’s first class is biology, and he heads there with a cloud over his head. He’d woken up to his mother's shrill screeching, and as such was not in a very good mood. He’d already resigned himself to not seeing Richie today, as was now the norm, so when he walks in and sees Richie seated at their desk he almost falls over on the spot.

Unable to help himself, a wide smile graces his lips, widening when Richie immediately returns it. He makes a beeline to the desk and takes his seat, and Richie’s gaze never strays from him. His arm is propped up on the table, head in his hand while his other hand lightly taps on the desk. Richie is clad in another band tee -this time Aerosmith- and another hideous hawaiian button up is thrown on, but this one is blue instead of pink.

“Long time no see, stranger.” Eddie says lightly, and Richie huffs a soft laugh.

“Long time indeed.”

“I was worried something had happened to you.” Eddie admits with a nervous laugh, and Richie’s smile only widens.

“I know. Bev told me.” He drawls, and Eddie’s cheeks flush. “I was out of town for a couple of days. Personal reasons.”

“That isn’t suspicious at all.” Eddie murmurs, and Richie quirks a brow. “Your family said the exact same thing.”

Richie laughs, a soft melodic noise that turns Eddie’s insides to goo. “Come on, Eds. Someone sounds paranoid.”

“Yeah,” Eddie admits softly. “I guess you’re right.”

“So, spaghetti, how was your weekend?”

They fall naturally into conversation, murmuring back and forth through class, and when biology ends and Richie slips away with the promise to see him later, Eddie feels lighter than he had in days.


	3. 20 Questions

Stan smiles knowingly the minute Eddie stumbles out of the classroom with pink cheeks, but he keeps his teasing to himself and gestures Eddie along with him. Neither notice the amused golden eyes following them from down the hallway, locked on Eddie’s back until they turn the corner.

They tuck away into the back of the classroom as per the norm, and Stan waits to speak to Eddie until they’ve unpacked their books and the teacher is prattling on at the front of the room. For a moment, Eddie fears it’ll be about Richie -a topic he thinks he’d mostly like to keep to himself for now- but Stan seems to know that and instead prattles on about something his father had said at the dinner table.

Eddie listens, taking notes from the chalkboard as he does, murmuring back when appropriate. 

“So,” Stan says finally, and Eddie peeks up at him from his work, raising an eyebrow. “Bill and I are having a sleepover this Friday, do you wanna come?”

Eddie’s eyes widen and he smiles brightly at the other boy. “Really?”

“We thought we could watch some cheesy old movies and eat junk.” 

“That sounds great.” Eddie says honestly, and Stan visibly relaxes. “I really appreciate you guys.”

“So we’ve heard.” Stan replies dryly, and Eddie laughs and lightly shoves him.

They fall silent to finish the worksheet they’d been assigned, murmuring back and forth when assistance is required -always on Eddie’s end- and the bell rings mere moments after they’ve finished. They hand it in and leave, bumping straight into Bill.

“How was class?” He asks, and both exchange a look and shrug.

“Fine.” Stan is the one to answer. “Eddie is in for the sleepover Friday night.”

“G-Great!” Bill beams, eyes sparkling. “I-It’s at my place, we can p-p-p-pick you up.”

“Sounds good to me.”

They chat idly until they reach their usual table, trays of food in their hands, and then the grilling starts. “So,” Bill begins, and Eddie immediately knows where this is going and groans dramatically. “Richie T-T-Tozier.”

“What about him?” He deflects, and both shrug their shoulders. Stan is the one to reply.

“What’s he like? What do you guys talk about?”

“Uhh… Stuff?” Eddie replies lamely, arching a brow. “Why are you guys so curious?”

“He’s never spoken to anyone but his family.”

“Oh.” Eddie mumbles. He’s quiet for a moment. “He’s funny. He’s curious, we talked a lot about why I moved here and what my mom is like, and he told me a bit about Beverly and Ben.”

“Neat. He- He speaks so rarely you’d almost think he d-d-doesn’t realize most of us e-exist.”

“Well he’s perfectly nice to me.” Eddie defends, cheeks colouring a light pink, and Stan smirks.

“Well perfectly nice is waving you over.”

Eddie immediately turns around and spots Richie seated a few tables away from his family. The minute their gazes lock, his eyes light up and a dazzling smile graces his lips. He waves him over again, lightly patting the table, and Eddie looks back to his friends.

“Do you guys mind?” He asks, and both shake their heads.

“Tell l-l-loverboy we say ‘hi’.” 

Eddie’s blush darkens and without another word he snatches his tray and stands to head over to his bio partner. Once he’s in earshot Richie quietly whoops, visibly pleased that Eddie is joining him. 

“Hey there spaghetti.” Richie grins, and Eddie sticks his tongue out at him as he takes his seat. 

“Don’t call me that.” 

“Alright Eds.” He jests, and Eddie groans.

“You’re insufferable.”

“You like it.” Richie chuckles softly. He glances at a point over Eddie’s shoulder and his smile widens in amusement. “Your friends are staring at us.”

“They say hello.” Eddie replies without looking, and Richie chuckles and waves. Eddie doesn’t have to look to know that his friends have surely ducked their heads by now. 

“Grand plans for the weekend, spaghetti?” Richie asks after dropping his hand, and Eddie sighs softly through his nose but he can’t conceal his smile.

“I’m sleeping over at Bill’s on Friday. You?”

“Concert with Bev.” He replies, reaching across the table to steal the lid to Eddie’s juice. Eddie watches in silence as Richie spins it lightly with long, thin fingers. He swallows thickly. He swears he sees Richie’s lips quirk upward. “Plans for Saturday?”

“Why, planning on asking me on a date?” Eddie jokes before he can stop himself, and his face immediately goes red. 

Richie’s eyes have gone wide, beautiful lips slightly parted from his surprised gasp, but before Eddie can backpedal and apologize profusely Richie throws his head back and laughs. He laughs loudly, beautifully, and Eddie knows his friends are going to be asking him what he’d done to evoke such a reaction. 

“Why, Eds, are you asking me to ask you out?” He teases back, and Eddie sputters immediately. Before he can embarrass himself further Richie reaches out and lightly pokes his nose. The breath leaves his lungs, stolen by the icy cold touch. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, spaghetti. I’m teasing.”

“God, I’m bad at this.” Eddie groans, and Richie giggles softly. 

“At what?”

“Talking to cute boys.”

“You think I’m cute? This is going in my diary tonight; dear diary, today my darling spaghetti told me he thinks I’m cute-”

“Cute and annoying!” Eddie interrupts despite the laugh Richie’s antics have earned.

“Still has cute in it!” Richie insists, and Eddie rolls his eyes. “Tell me more about you.”

“Like what?” 

“Anything.” Richie shrugs, and Eddie ponders for a moment.

“Do I get to ask you things?” He asks, and Richie nods his consent. “Alright, why was your finger so cold.”

“Oh- uh- I-” He coughs, golden gaze darting away for a moment. “Poor circulation.”

That feels like a lie. Eddie knows it does. However, he doesn’t know enough about Richie to pry, nor to call him on the lie, so he accepts it and moves on. “Alright. What’s your question?”

Richie visibly relaxes, and spends a moment pondering what he wants to ask. Eventually he huffs a small laugh and speaks. “Favourite color?” 

“What is this, third grade?”

“That’s important shit right there, spaghetti!” He defends, and Eddie can’t help but laugh.

“I guess I’d say it changes day to day. It was green once, but there’s too much green here. Everything is green.” He mutters bitterly, and Richie smiles sympathetically. 

“Yeah, three hundred days of rain will do that.” He agrees. “So.. What is it today, then?”

“Gold.” He responds automatically, and Richie’s lips twitch upwards. “What do you want to be when you’re older?”

“Comedian.” Richie responds with barely a moment of thought. “And if that doesn’t work out I can play the guitar as a fallback.”

“I think it would work out.” Eddie encourages him honestly, and Richie’s gaze softens.

“Thanks, spagheds.” He pauses for a moment to think of another question. “If your mom is so bad, why don’t you live with your dad?” 

Eddie purses his lips and looks down at the pizza in front of him, idly picking at it with a finger. Richie waits patiently, unsure if he’d crossed a line, but before he can apologize and pick a different question Eddie replies. “That’s.. Not really an option for me. My dad died when I was four.”

“Oh.” Richie murmurs, brows knitting together. “I’m sorry, Eds.”

“It’s okay. It is what it is.” He murmurs, brushing it off as quickly as possible. “What did you say to your family about me?”

Richie seems visibly relieved that their game is still going, and his smile returns. “That there was a new boy in bio and he’s cute, cute, cute!” Eddie knows he must be joking but he feels his face heat up nonetheless. “Have you ever had a sleepover before, or is Friday your first one?”

“First one.” Eddie admits, and Richie frowns sympathetically. “Ma will probably try to stop me.”

“Well, if you need a jailbreak I’d be happy to assist. Just give me a ring.” 

“I don’t even have your number.” Eddie laughs, heart stuttering in his chest when Richie smiles, looking up at him from beneath long lashes.

“Do you want my number?”

“I-” Eddie wheezes. “It’s my turn to ask a question.” Richie smiles and sits back, gesturing for him to carry on. It would be so easy.  _ What’s your number?  _ It’s only three words. He could do it. He can do this. “What’s your favourite color?” He blurts instead, and Richie’s smile widens slightly.

“Brown.”

“Brown?” Eddie asks, wrinkling his nose, and Richie nods his head. 

“Brown.” He repeats, and the undertone in his voice makes Eddie rethink himself. Brown. Brown? What had he said? Gold. He’d said gold- oh.  _ Oh.  _

“Oh.” He whispers, and Richie chuckles softly. He leans forward then, leaning toward Eddie, and Eddie feels like he’s been frozen in place.

“What’s your number, spaghetti?” 

The bell rings, breaking the moment, and Eddie can see the disappointment clear as day in Richie’s eyes. He wonders briefly if Richie feels the same way he does. Spurred on by the pout on Richie’s face, Eddie reaches into his bag and grabs a marker. Once it’s in hand he gestures for Richie to give him his hand. Richie visibly hesitates, and Eddie smiles as reassuring as he can with his heart running a marathon in his chest.

“C’mon. I promise I won’t ask about your  _ circulation _ .” 

“I assure you that my circulation is just fine elsewhere.” Richie protests as he holds out his arm, and Eddie grins.

“How lucky for your left hand.”

“Spaghetti!” Richie gasps, faux scandalized, and Eddie giggles.

“Sorry, how presumptuous of me, is it your right hand?”

“It is.” Richie replies, pointedly raising an eyebrow and looking to where Eddie is now lightly holding said hand. Eddie laughs again, glancing over his shoulder when his friends call him. 

“Text me.” He murmurs, quickly writing his number along Richie’s forearm. Richie’s muscles twitch beneath him, and he swears Richie isn’t breathing the whole time he’s writing. 

He makes good on his promise and doesn’t comment on Richie’s ice cold skin, determinedly ignoring the intrusive thoughts said skin incites.  _ I wonder if he’s always cold. Maybe I could warm him up. _

When he’s done he caps the marker and stands, gathering his backpack and tossing it over his shoulder. 

“Holy shit.” Richie mutters as Eddie waves and then turns to run over to his friends, determinedly ignoring their laughter.

“What did you d-d-d-do to him? H-H-He looks like he’s s-s-seen a g-ghost!”

“Nothing.” Eddie lies, voice oozing faux innocence, and his friend’s exchange a glance.

“He’s a sneaky one, this Eddie.” 


	4. Blood Typing

“Okay, I have t-t-to know,” Bill begins, earning Eddie’s attention. He looks up from his phone and meets Bill’s gaze, and his friend grins. “What exactly did you say to Richie the other day?”

Eddie’s cheeks immediately flush red and he looks down, lifting a hand to scratch the back of his neck. “I.. Gave him my number. Actually I wrote it on his arm.”

Stan whistles lowly. “Alright, Eddie has balls.”

“Stan!” The other two screech, and Stan can’t help but laugh. 

Eddie is almost immediately distracted by his phone vibrating on the floor next to him, and he picks it up only to grin widely. He tunes out the teasing from his friends about his ‘boyfriend’ texting him, and quickly types back.

**Richie: ** how goes the slumber party spaghetti?

**Eddie:** don’t call me that

**Eddie: ** it’s going fine, we’re gossiping about you

**Richie: ** about ME? What are you saying? All good things I hope

**Eddie: ** nothing good to say about a man that calls me spaghetti

**Richie: ** you wound me spaghetti

**Eddie: ** RICHIE

“Earth to Eddie!” Stan calls, waving his hand in front of his face. Eddie looks up with wide eyes, and Stan huffs a laugh. “As entertaining as it is to watch you sit there giggling at your phone, we’re going to start the movie.”

“Nightmare on Elm street?” Eddie asks eagerly, and Bill nods from where he’s crouched by the DVD player. “Okay, let me say bye.”

**Richie: ** that’s my name don’t wear it out

**Eddie: ** har har you’re hilarious

**Eddie: ** I’ll text you in a bit we’re starting the movie 

He pockets his phone before he can see Richie’s response and shuffles into a more comfortable position on the couch. Stan claims the middle, and Bill leans on the arm of the couch, coughing softly at Stan. Eddie pretends not to notice the way Stan glances at him for a fraction of a second before he leans over and nestles into Bill, his head tucked under Bill’s chin. Eddie can’t help but smile, and if his friends notice they don’t comment.

Bill and Stan make it halfway through Nightmare on Elm Street 3 before they fall asleep, Stan still tucked up into Bill’s arms, and Eddie decides to text Richie to kill some time; he’s always been a night owl, and will likely be stuck awake for another hour or so.

When he unlocks his phone, he sees the text he’d missed from Richie earlier that night.

**Richie: ** what are you watching?

Eddie can’t help but smile, rolling his eyes slightly.

**Eddie: ** I literally said I was leaving why would you ask another question

**Eddie: ** nightmare on elm street 1 & 2. 3 is still playing

**Eddie: ** they passed out

**Eddie: ** Are u even still up or am I being a pest

**Richie: ** I am in fact still up edward spaghedward

**Eddie: ** I want a divorce

**Richie: ** u can try but I’ll never sign the papers

**Richie: ** and because u just answered it

**Richie: ** 1 & 3 are excellent, 2 is trash

**Eddie: ** u would know, trashmouth

**Richie: ** oh em gee, a nickname of my very own from my darling spaghetti. I’ll try not to let it get to my head

**Richie: ** too late it got to my head

**Eddie: ** wow. Incredible

**Eddie: ** how was ur concert?

**Richie: ** fine, band isn’t one of my favourites but Bev loves them 

**Eddie: ** nice of you to go

**Richie: ** you should come to one sometime

**Eddie: ** a concert? With you?

**Richie: ** should I be offended?

**Eddie: ** no! I’d like that, was just surprised is all

**Richie: ** friends can go to concerts together can’t they?

Eddie bites his lip as he reads that last text. He’s glad this isn’t a verbal conversation so Richie can’t see the way his face has fallen.  _ Friends. That’s what they are. Despite this weird connection Eddie feels, their relationship is platonic. _

**Eddie: ** yeah. I’m gonna head to bed, night rich.

**Richie: ** night eds. Sweet dreams

Eddie pockets his phone and stands up to turn off the dvd player and tv. The movie credits are just about finished when he clicks the power button. Stan stirs at the sudden lack of noise, peeking his eyes open and mumbling a soft noise of confusion.

“S’going on?” 

“Movie is over.” Eddie replies softly. “Figured it was time for bed.”

“Are you okay?” Stan asks, significantly more awake than he had been a moment ago. Eddie forces a smile and nods his head.

“Yeah, of course.”

Stan arches an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “What happened?”

Eddie heaves a heavy sigh and crosses the room to drop back onto the couch next to Stan. Bill remains in a deep sleep, and Stan shifts a bit closer to Eddie. 

“He just.. Called us friends.” 

Stan, bless his heart, seems to know what’s wrong with that and pats Eddie gently on the knee with a sympathetic frown. “I’m sorry, Eddie.”

“It’s alright, I’m more than okay with being his friend, I just.. I don’t know, Stan, I feel some weird connection with him.” He tries to explain, and Stan patiently nods his head. “I feel drawn to him, like I’m never properly breathing unless I’m with him.” He turns to face Stan, eyebrows drawn together. “Does that make sense? Or am I a crazy person?”

“It’s strange that you feel this connection so strongly when you’ve known each other for such a short period of time,” Stan begins, and Eddie nods for him to continue. “But I’ve watched you two together, and he seems to be the same way. I’ve never really believed in love at first sight, but I also don’t have a rational explanation for what’s happening between you two.”

“I see.”

“You’re not a crazy person though, if that helps.” 

“It does.” Eddie huffs a soft laugh, smiling warmly at his friend. “Thanks, Stan.”

“Wha’s going on?” Bill mumbles as he stirs, and Stan hushes him softly. 

“Time for bed. Let’s fold out the couch.”

Monday rolls around faster than Eddie wants it to. Once he comes home from Bill’s on Saturday evening his mother hardly looks at him, and he can’t find it in himself to complain; at least she’s not up his ass about his pills and allergies and other bullshit ailments she’s convinced he has. He spends Saturday night in his room doing homework and listening to music, and if the love songs make him think of golden eyes and thick black curls then that’s nobody’s business but his own.

Sunday is much of the same, spend inside his room drafting english papers or finishing up algebra homework, and when he’s finally finished with that he grabs Bill’s worn out copy of The Shining and perches on his bed. He doesn’t answer Richie’s texts.

His stomach is a ball of nerves as he trudges to bio, heart heavy in his chest. He doesn’t have a good reason to have spent the remainder of his weekend ignoring Richie, and he doesn’t know what to expect when he enters the class. He expects anger, or sadness, or questions about why he’d ignored him. What he doesn’t expect is to round the corner and watch Richie light up like a christmas tree. The tension immediately drains from his body at Richie’s obvious elation and he breathes a soft sigh as he crosses the room, relieved he hadn’t damaged their relationship.

“How was your sleepover?” Richie asks before Eddie has even taken his seat, and Eddie smiles and huffs a soft laugh.

“You already know; I texted you through most of it.”

“Most isn’t all.” Richie pries, batting his eyelashes at his friend, and Eddie laughs and shakes his head fondly, unable to disguise his smile.

“It was a lot of fun.” He responds lightly. “I texted a boy through most of it.”

Something flashes through Richie’s eyes, but it’s gone before Eddie can identify it. Richie smirks slightly and arches a brow, one of his hands lifting to drag his curls out of his face. Eddie’s breath hitches in his chest, and he swears to god Richie’s smirk widens. 

“A cute boy?” He asks playfully, and Eddie tries to keep his tone light and nonchalante when he responds.

“The cutest.”

“Well that’s just not true, Eds.” Richie replies, and before Eddie can question him he continues, smile widening. “You couldn’t have been texting yourself all night.”

It takes a moment to sink in, and once it has Eddie’s face turns the color of a cherry. He sputters for a second before releasing a flustered giggle and ducking his head to hide his face from view.

“You’re the worst.”

That becomes the norm for Eddie. Spend bio giggling with Richie, spend lunch doing much the same, spend Friday nights at Stan or Bill’s. A week and a half passes quickly, with Eddie falling easily into this rhythm, truly content for the first time in a while. 

“What do you think about Stan and Bill eating with us tomorrow?” Eddie asks slowly Thursday afternoon after swallowing the french fry he’d been nibbling on for fifteen minutes. Richie ponders the question for a moment, visibly hesitant, and Eddie offers a reassuring smile. “I know you don’t like to talk to many people but.. You’re basically my best friend and they’re really important to me too, it would mean a lot to me.”

“Alright.” Richie agrees after a moment, visibly softening at the way Eddie lights up with glee. “I suppose I can talk to a few more people, just for you.”

Eddie’s playful response is cut off by the bell ringing, and he heaves a sigh and stands, grabbing his backpack off the bench he’d been seated on. “Alright, come on. We can talk more in bio.”

At that, Richie smiles and shakes his head. “I’m not going to bio today.”

“Huh?”

“I’m skipping.”

“Skipping?” Eddie snorts, raising an eyebrow, and Richie can’t help but laugh.

“It’s healthy to skip class every once in a while.” He grins, and Eddie squints suspiciously at him.

“Why do I feel like you know something I don’t?” He asks, and Richie’s smile widens. He shrugs his shoulders and tilts his head slightly.

“I’m sure I know lots you don’t, spaghetti.”

“Asshole.” Eddie responds automatically, and Richie laughs harder. “Well, I’m going. If they call my mom she won’t let me out of the house for at least a week.”

“Have fun.” Richie calls, voice oozing faux sincerity, and Eddie sticks his tongue out at him before turning and fleeing to class. 

The minute Eddie enters the classroom he realizes he had been correct, and Richie  **did ** know something that he himself didn’t know. He recognizes the equipment on the desks, and he recognizes the box of pins on the front desk, and too late he realizes he should’ve stayed with Richie when he had the chance. 

“Mister Kaskprak, if you could take your seat we can begin.” The teachers voice cuts through the room, and Eddie’s face goes white.

He stumbles to his desk on legs made of rubber and practically collapses into his seat, clammy hands tightly gripping the edge of his desk. He hates this. He hates blood typing, he hates bio, and he hates Richie for not telling him that this was happening. The mere thought of the pins in the box on the teachers desk is enough to make him feel nauseous. His head swims, remembering all of the times his mother had dragged him to the hospital for bumps and scrapes and bruises.

He remembers blood test after blood test, urine tests, ultrasounds, being poked and prodded everywhere with every object imaginable, and his knows his face must be white as a ghost. His hands are shaking where they grip the edge of the table, and he hunches to press his forehead to the tabletop. 

“Edward? Are you okay?” 

“Nope. I uh- I think I need to see the nurse.” He mumbles. “I know my blood type already.”

“Alright, someone has to take Mister Kaspbrak to the nurse’s office!” The teacher calls, and the boy that sits behind Eddie, Eric, immediately jumps to his feet.

He helps Eddie up with an arm around his back, and Eddie obediently loops his arm around the back of Eric’s neck. Eric talks his ear off while they walk, and Eddie can’t even find it in himself to pretend he’s paying attention. His head hangs limply down, chin bumping his chest, and he huffs a sigh of relief that Richie isn’t present to see him like this.

“Eddie?” He hears his name called and groans inwardly. Speak of the devil. Richie speaks again, and this time his voice is significantly closer. “Eddie, are you okay?”

Eddie groans loudly and dramatically, cringing toward Eric in an attempt at hiding his pale and clammy face from Richie. “Don’t look at me.”

“He fainted in bio.” Eric explains, ignoring Eddie’s protests that he technically didn’t faint. “We were blood typing. I’m taking him to the nurse.”

“I’ll take him from here.”

Without giving Eric a choice Richie hoists Eddie into his arms. Eric mumbles a few protests, but they fall on deaf ears as Eddie screeches and flings his arms around Richie’s neck. Richie’s arms are strong and sure, and Eddie’s heart pounds in his chest. He shifts, pressing his face into the crook of Richie’s neck, revelling in his cold skin. He tries not to think about the fact that he’s basically rubbing his face-sweat on the beautiful creature holding him.

“You’re cold.” Eddie mumbles, and Richie stiffens slightly. Eddie thinks nothing of it, nuzzling further into his neck. Richie’s breath hitches, and it makes Eddie’s stomach tighten. “It’s lovely.”

“Finally, my poor circulation is good for something.” Richie tries to joke, huffing a strained laugh. Eddie hums quietly in response.

Richie walks them quickly to the nurses office, and Eddie remains quiet, trying not to obviously smell Richie’s neck but also trying to commit the smell of him to memory. He smells like mint and something else that Eddie can’t identify, and it makes him want to nuzzle closer. The fact that Richie is irrationally attractive does nothing to quell that urge.

When they make it to the nurses office the woman seems almost bored, sighing softly as soon as Richie offers an explanation. “There’s always one.” She mutters, gesturing for Richie to lay Eddie on the bed.

“Don’t call my mom.” Eddie says before the nurse can take more than a step away, and she arches her eyebrow at him.

“Young man, if you need to go home-”

“If you call my mom I’m going to be stuck in the emergency room for the rest of the week being poked and prodded with needles to look for diseases I don’t have.” He blurts frantically, and her eyes go wide in surprise. She glances to Richie, as if he would know, and he automatically nods his head.

“Well.. I suppose I can forego the call home if you have a safe way home.” She agrees hesitantly, and Richie immediately pipes up. 

“I’ll drive him home.”

“Very well. Just lie down for a bit, I’ll go make sure you’re excused from your final class.”

She leaves, and Eddie groans and throws his arm over his face. Richie watches silently, tilting his head as Eddie mutters to himself. “You don’t have to drive me home.” Eddie finally says, peeking over at Richie. “I’m more than capable of driving myself.”

“You look like a literal corpse, spaghetti.” Richie replies, shaking his head. “Friends don’t let friends drive dead.”

Eddie blinks at him. Then blinks again. Finally he snorts a laugh and rolls his eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You like it.” 

“Hmm. Maybe.”

“Aww, I knew it, spaghetti likes me-”

“Oh my god, shut up.” Eddie groans but he can’t hide his smile. “We have to take my truck, or my mom will know something is up. Is there someone that can pick you up?”

“Got it covered, Eds.” Richie promises. His grin turns playful and he leans in. “Do you need me to carry you to your truck?”

“No!” He sputters immediately, but he backtracks slightly when he remembers the cold embrace of his arms, the ease he’d carried him with. He coughs and looks away, cheeks flushed a deep red. “Maybe..”

Richie giggles but remains silent otherwise. When Eddie informs him that his head has settled enough to go, he carefully slides his arms underneath Eddie and lifts him up. Eddie’s arms return to their previous position, with one draped behind his neck, hands joining on Richie’s shoulder. He sighs happily, leaning in to nestle his face into Richie’s neck, once more delighting in the way Richie’s breath hitches. 

“Careful spaghetti, you might make me think you actually like me.” He teases lightly, and Eddie huffs a soft laugh. Richie’s grip on him noticeably tightens as Eddie’s breath puffs against his skin, and his heart stutters.

“Oh, we wouldn’t want that.” 

They make it to the truck all too soon, and Richie pulls the door open and carefully sets Eddie down in the passenger seat. He reaches for the buckle, but when Eddie squawks and moves to swat him away he laughs and closes the door, leaving Eddie to buckle his seatbelt.

“Off we go, Eds. Where do you live?” 

Eddie mumbles the instructions and Richie eases out of the parking lot, taking great care with Eddie’s truck, which the shorter boy appreciates immensely. The drive is spent in relative silence. Richie spends most of it humming along to whatever song the radio is playing, while Eddie stares unabashedly at him.

He takes in the slope of Richie’s neck, the flex of his wrist with every turn, the sparkle in his eyes as he sings along to Taylor Swift. He can’t help but feel warm inside, affection blossoming in his chest. He adores this dork of a man, loves his shitty jokes and his dazzling smile and his apparent circulation issue. 

“Park around the corner.” He says suddenly, and Richie looks over with a quirked eyebrow. “If my mom sees you driving my truck she’ll know something was up. I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d spend the week in emerge if she knew.” 

“Fuck. She really is crazy, huh?” Richie mutters. Eddie only grunts in response. 

When they near Eddie’s house Richie obediently pulls over out of sight, and Eddie sighs softly, playing with his fingers in his lap. Richie watches for a moment, wondering what’s going on in Eddie’s head, but he waits quietly for Eddie to speak. 

“D’you want to talk and kill some time?” He offers. “I assume you need Beverly and Ben to pick you up, and school isn’t out for a little while.”

“Sure. Do you want to park in your driveway?”

Eddie grimaces and looks away. “I.. Can’t. If my mom sees me with you..”

“I know, she’d know something’s up. I meant we could switch places, you can finish the drive.”

“I.. I know what you meant, Rich..”

Richie stares at him for a moment, confusion obvious in honey sweet eyes. He watches Eddie’s nervous expression, and after a few moments realization dawns on his face. “Oh, Eds. Tell me you’re joking.”

“I wish I was joking.” Eddie mutters, finally daring to meet Richie’s gaze. Sympathy is clear in his gaze, and Eddie sighs. “I’m pretty sure we moved down here because she caught me-” He breaks off.

“Caught you..?” Richie prompts gently, and Eddie groans in the back of his throat.

“A boy kissed me. She saw. Next thing I know we’re packing up and moving to Forks, and she’s telling me we can get away from that ‘disease’ that that boy was trying to give me.” 

“That’s awful.” Richie hisses, and Eddie nods. 

“I know. I just..” Eddie takes a deep breath and reaches out to gently brush his fingers across the back of Richie’s hand. “I don’t want to be dragged away from here, too.”

Richie blinks down at their hands, and after a moment of hesitation flips his hand so he can gently grasp Eddie’s. “I don’t want that either.” He admits, and Eddie smiles. 

“I’ll save you a seat at lunch tomorrow?” He offers as Richie unclasps his seatbelt, and Richie smiles brilliantly at him.

“Unless I beat you there.”

“You can try.”

“I always do, slowpoke.”

“Are you still okay with eating lunch with Bill and Stan?” 

“Of course, Eds. Anything for you.” Richie grins. He climbs out and blows Eddie a kiss, and then turns and starts walking down the street, hands in his pockets.

Eddie’s heart pounds in his chest as he shuffles himself across the bench seat of his truck and into the driver's seat. He peeks in the rearview and catches Richie sneaking one last peek at him, and he giggles softly as he puts the truck in gear and drives the last hundred feet to his house.


	5. Can't You Just Thank Me and Get Over It?

**Eddie: ** I hate the cold

**Richie: ** Didn’t seem to mind when you fainted

**Eddie: ** Fuck you

**Richie: ** I’ll see you at school sunshine

**Eddie: ** don’t call me that

**Richie: ** at least it’s friday

Eddie groans softly and tosses his phone down the bed. Richie is right; at least it’s Friday. That doesn’t make him any more willing to get out of bed. His phone has already informed him that it’s cold out, and he has zero interest in wiggling out of his blanket cocoon and trudging to school. He reasons that at least it’s nearly time for winter break; it’s been three and a half months since he started at Forks High. He sulks for a few more minutes until the thought of seeing Richie is enough to make him get out of bed.

He burrows himself into a thick green hoodie and pulls on black jeans before scurrying down the stairs. Unfortunately for him, his mother catches him before he can make it out the door, her hand a vice grip on his forearm. “Eddie bear, don’t forget your breakfast!”

“I’ll eat at school, ma-”

“No!” Sonia shouts over him, and he flinches back with wide eyes. “I am sick of the excuses, Eddie! You’re going to sit at that table and eat your breakfast like a good boy, and listen to what mommy says!”

“I-” Eddie hesitates, brown eyes wide. Her grip on his wrist tightens, and not for the first time he feels scared for what she might do if he continues to fight her on this. “Okay.” He croaks, and she releases his arm.

“There’s my good boy.” She praises, pushing him lightly toward the kitchen. “You’ve been so disobedient lately Eddie, I was thinking we might have to move again; you’ve been spending an awful lot of time with those boys-”

“They’re my friends, ma.” Eddie interrupts as he takes his seat at the table. Sonia purses her lips and exhales heavily through her nose. 

“We’ve been over this, Eddie honey. You don’t need friends, you have mommy.” She sets a plate in front of him and watches him expectantly. “Now eat your breakfast.”

Eddie hesitates, looking suspiciously at the pile of scrambled eggs, bacon, and single piece of toast. The last time she’d made him scrambled eggs it was so she could smash his pills up and hide them in the eggs. He winces.

“Ma, we talked about the pills-” He breaks off when she slams her hand down on the table, his eyes wide in shock.

“You need those pills, Eddie! I don’t know what that  _ boy _ in Maine told you, but he’s a liar! I’m your mother, I only want what’s best for you! These pills help you! You need them!”

“Help me with what?!” Eddie screams back, and her face flushes red with anger.

“With your sickness!”

“ **What** sickness? Please, by all means, tell me! There’s nothing wrong with me!” He stands, snatching a piece of bacon off the plate. “I’m going to be late for school.”

“Eddie!” Sonia screeches, immediately following after him, and he shoulders out the door without looking back. She follows him out, screaming after him as he gets into his truck. “Eddie you come back here! You need these! You’re sick!”

When he gets to school he’s angry, overwhelmed, and his hands are shaking. He doesn’t know who he wants to find, doesn’t know who he really needs to see until his feet carry him to Richie’s car. Richie is seated inside, as per usual -Eddie had learned that a couple weeks prior when searching for him, Richie always sits in his car until it’s time for class- and he looks up when Eddie stops beside his door.

His smile falls immediately upon seeing the look on Eddie’s face, and the minute sorrow enters onyx eyes Eddie feels his lower lip tremble. Upset as he is, he doesn’t give himself any time to wonder why Richie’s eyes are suddenly black. He steps back when the car door opens, and Richie immediately holds his arms out to the distraught boy. Eddie falls into them, a weak sob ripping free, and Richie’s cool strong arms cocoon him. 

He feels safe. Protected. Wrapped in his best friend’s arms he feels as though nothing can hurt him- not even his mother.

“What happened, sweetheart?” Richie asks softly, voice honey sweet, and Eddie’s chest aches with emotion. He squeezes Richie tighter, and Richie gently rubs his hand up and down Eddie’s back in response.

“My mom tried to drug me.”

Richie’s grip on him tightens like a vice, and when he speaks again his voice is practically a snarl, venom oozing from his words. “She  ** _what_ ** ?”

“She threatened to make me move again because I’m ‘disobedient’, and tried to force feed me eggs and last time she did that she drugged me and I was bedridden for a week-” His voice cracks and he fists his hands into Richie’s shirt. “-she told me I was ‘getting over my illness’ but it- it was all her.”

“Eddie.. God, I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

“I..” Eddie’s voice cracks. “Can you come over tonight? To stay over? I can sneak you in, I- I don’t want to be alone with her.”

“Of course.” Richie promises immediately. “Of course I will.”

Eddie sags in relief, huffing against Richie’s chest, and he sniffles weakly. He nuzzles his nose lightly into Richie’s chest, relaxing further when gentle cold hands start carding through his hair. His eyes flutter shut, the ache in his chest over his mother easing with every moment he spends with Richie. “Thanks, Rich.”

“Always.” 

They skip their first period and talk in Richie’s car so that Eddie doesn’t have to deal with the stares he’d receive over his red eyes and blotchy cheeks, and when it’s time for period two Richie walks him to class -as he had every day for weeks- and then bids him farewell and disappears down the hall. When lunch rolls around Eddie is tense and wound up again, and bids his friends farewell to beeline to Richie, promising he’ll text them tonight and they can go out for dinner or to see a movie.

“Hey there, sunshine.” Richie greets gently, brows furrowed in concern, and Eddie drops heavily into his seat. “Are you okay?”

“Not really.” Eddie sighs, reaching across the table so that his fingers can brush Richie’s. Even that small bit of contact is enough to soothe Eddie’s frazzled nerves. 

“I assume that’s why Stan and Bill aren’t joining us?” He asks, and at Eddie’s confused look he explains. “You usually invite them to join us on Tuesdays and Fridays. Today is Friday.”

“Oh my god, I probably look like such a jerk!” Eddie groans, face falling to hit the tabletop, and Richie shakes his head despite the fact that Eddie isn’t looking. 

“They just look concerned. Did you tell them?”

“No. Should I?”

“That’s your call, Eds. They love you, though. They won’t judge, and it might make you feel better to have some people on your side.”

“ **You’re** on my side.” Eddie whispers, and Richie smiles warmly at him.

“Always, spaghetti. But they’re your best friends, it’ll probably take a load off your shoulders to tell them.”

Eddie is quiet for a few minutes, considering what Richie had said. He’s not wrong, and he can see the logic in what Richie is saying. On top of that, if they’re in the loop he has more people to help him on days like this, and more people to keep an eye on him and make sure his mother hasn’t gotten to him. Coming to a decision, he turns and waves his friends over. 

They both immediately scramble to their feet, lunch trays in hand, and Eddie stands to move to the opposite side of the table next to Richie, as is the norm for them when they all sit together. Neither even gets a word out before Eddie is rambling, explaining the years of poking and prodding by doctors. He explains the drugs, placebos, inhaler, blood tests and urine tests and needles. He tells them of his mother's manipulation, tells them of the time she’d drugged him into a practically comatose state for almost a week, and finishes by telling them of her attempt to drug him this morning.

Stan and Bill listen in complete silence, eyes wide in horror, neither interrupting as Eddie spills his guts to them and confesses his traumas and the abuse he’d been suffering since his father died. Once he’s done, shaking and silent, Bill and Stan each reach over to grab one of his hands.

“Is there anything we can do?” Stan asks earnestly, and Bill squeezes Eddie’s hand.

“W-W-We’ll do anything we c-can to help make sure she n-n-never does it again.”

Eddie sags in relief and squeezes their hands back, huffing a hollow laugh. “Thanks, guys.”

“We’re here for you. Always.” 

By the time the end of the day rolls around Eddie is in a much better mood than before. He’s still dreading going home, but he feels much better knowing that Richie will be there after nightfall to protect him. The thought of Richie spending the night with him -in his bed- is enough to make Eddie’s heart pound and his palms sweat. 

He already misses his friend, and turns to look toward his car. He finds Richie is already looking, and their gazes lock. He smiles, and Richie smiles back, breathtakingly beautiful as always. He debates waving him over, yearning for more of his attention, but he holds himself back as he knows they’ll have all night to talk.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by the screech of tires, and he barely has a second to process the horror on Richie’s face before his gaze falls upon the large blue van careening toward him, clearly out of control. Fuck. This is it, he’s going to die.  _ I’m going to die and I never even got to tell Richie how I feel- Richie is going to see this whole thing.  _

Where he expects pain -he can’t imagine being crushed between a van and a truck feels very good- he instead feels cold. Two familiar arms wrap around his waist and twist him around so fast he doesn’t even process the movement until his chest hits the side of his truck. Richie’s arms cocoon him and he feels him brace, and then the horrible crunch of metal assaults his ears. 

He cringes, crying out and lifting his hands to cover his ears. He feels the metal of the van hit his elbow when he moves, and his eyes go wide in shock. He turns his head, watching as Richie sticks his hand out and shoves the van away. It screeches as its pushed, and then wide onyx eyes meet petrified brown.

“Eddie, I-”

“Eddie?!” Another voice calls, and Richie’s face steels. Before Eddie can say a word, Richie hops over the back of his truck and runs. Eddie watches with wide eyes. “Eddie are you okay?”

“I’m calling an ambulance!” Someone else calls, followed by another voice. “We’re calling nine-one-one, don’t move!”

Eddie couldn’t move even if he wanted to. Despite the chaos, he can’t take his eyes off of the van, and the indent Richie’s back and shoulders had left in the side. They should be dead. Richie shouldn’t have even been over here. Had Richie just risked his life for Eddie? How had he even gotten over there? How had he stopped the van- he’d just shoved it away with his hand.  _ What the fuck is going on here? _

Unfortunately with a near-death encounter comes hospitals, which result in phone calls home, which is why Eddie is currently lying in a hospital bed having to listen to his mother screech and carry on about him never leaving the house again. He sighs loudly, unable to get the look on Richie’s face out of his head. He’d looked scared. Eddie tries to tune out his mother's screeching, instead thinking of Richie’s velvet smooth voice, but that just leads him back to the confusing events in the parking lot and if he thinks too hard on that he gets a headache. 

“Ma I’m fine.” He insists when he realizes she’s not intending to stop berating the doctor, and she whirls to shoot him a scathing glare.

“You could’ve been killed!” Sonia shrieks, and Eddie barely resists rolling his eyes.

“But I wasn’t! I’m okay. I’m not even hurt, ma.”

“Misses Kaspbrak, if we could just speak out in the hallway?” The doctor asks, guiding her toward the door, and she stomps after him still visibly fuming.

Eddie barely has a minute to himself before black eyes are peeking around the curtain surrounding his bed. He exhales sharply, but he’s not sure if its relief or annoyance.

“Real big of you to show up now that I’ve been poked and prodded and damn near homeschooled.” He mutters, and guilt flickers through Richie’s eyes.

“Sorry.” Richie whispers, and Eddie’s frown lessens.

“I was teasing, Rich. I didn’t mean any harm.” Eddie assures him, and Richie nods and crosses the room to sit beside him. “Would’ve been nice to have someone to deflect onto.”

“I don’t think me being here would’ve helped anything, Eds.”

“Hmph.”

“So you’re okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m okay. Bruised ribs, but otherwise I’m fine. Thanks to you.”

“Bruised ribs?” Richie asks weakly, and something in Eddie breaks at the meek tone in his voice.

“It could’ve been so much worse, I could’ve died Rich, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

“I’m so sorry, Eds.” Richie whispers, onyx eyes clearly conveying his misery. “I should’ve been more careful.”

“Richie-”

“I should’ve-”

“Hey!” He interrupts fiercely, hands lifting to cup Richie’s cheeks, and Richie’s eyes go wide in surprise. “This isn’t your fault. I’m alive because of you.”

Richie swallows thickly and raises a hand to gently cover one of Eddie’s. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Eddie smiles back in relief, tilting forward so his forehead rests on Richie’s shoulder. Richie doesn’t move, allowing him the comfort of physical contact, and he smiles weakly when Eddie grabs his hand.

“Rich..” He begins after a minute or so, and Richie stiffens slightly. “How’d you get over to me so fast?”

Richie goes rigid, eyes hardening as he averts them and pulls back from their makeshift embrace. He even pulls his hand free of Eddie’s. Eddie tries not to let that hurt. “I was standing right next to you, Eds.” 

“No.” Eddie protests stubbornly, and Richie clenches his teeth. “You were with your family across the parking lot.”

Richie forces a laugh, loud and strained, and still won’t look at Eddie. “Come on, Eds. There’s no way I could’ve gotten to you so fast if that’s the case.”

“But it is.” Eddie insists, voice hard. “And you did.”

Richie licks his lips nervously, and Eddie tries and fails not to follow the movement with his eyes. When he meets Eddie’s gaze, Eddie can see the fear deep in them. “Can’t you just thank me and get over it?” He tries weakly.

“Thank you.” Eddie says genuinely, and when he reaches to touch Richie’s hand the other man doesn’t pull away. Eddie curls his fingers around Richie’s hand and squeezes it, and Richie seems hesitant to do so back. “Thank you.” He repeats, and Richie manages to smile at him. 

“Always.”

Eddie wants to pry further -wants to know what exactly is going on- but any chance they have to talk is taken away by Sonia returning to the room with Eddie’s doctor. Richie immediately pulls his hand from Eddie’s and places a quick kiss to his temple before fleeing, muttering an apology as he goes.

He hopes despite this mess, Richie still comes tonight.

He does. Within minutes of Eddie shooting him a text informing him that his mother is asleep, his phone vibrates.

**Richie: ** open your window

Eddie grins and crosses his room, prying it open and beaming down at his friend. “Edpunzel, Edpunzel, let down your hair!” Richie calls, and Eddie snorts a giggle.

“I changed my mind, go home.” 

“Rude!” Richie squawks even as he begins climbing toward Eddie’s window. 

Eddie can’t help but notice how effortless it seems. In fact, it seems almost like Richie is going out of his way to climb slowly, and make it look like it’s difficult.

“You stopped a van with your shoulders today, Richie, I know you can climb up here.”

Richie huffs and meets his gaze, and with one mighty pull he’s suddenly right at Eddie’s window. Eddie almost yelps in surprise but manages to stop himself, and amusement glints in honey eyes. 

_ Wait a minute. Weren’t they black at the hospital?  _

Eddie wants to ask, he desperately wants to know what exactly is going on with Richie, but when he remembers the defensive demeanour at the hospital he bites his tongue and pushes his questions aside. Richie is allowed to have secrets, he just has to hope that one day he decides to let him in on it.

“Cute room.” He comments as he takes a seat on the bed, and Eddie immediately crosses the room to climb back into it.

He nestles himself against the headboard and pulls his blanket up before patting beside himself invitingly. Richie grins and crawls up the bed. Eddie thinks his heart might beat out of his chest as he watches Richie crawl toward him. He settles himself next to Eddie and politely declines the offer of a blanket.

“I’ll just make you cold.” He explains, and Eddie furrows his brows.

“But aren’t you cold?”

“Not at all.” Richie replies honestly. 

They chat into the night until Eddie can’t keep his eyes open any longer, mumbling sleepy thanks to Richie for coming and staying with him. If he falls asleep with his head on Richie’s chest and Richie’s arm curled around him, that’s nobody’s business but their own. 


End file.
